


No, You

by Peetabreadgirl, Xerxia



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut, toastbabies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7862224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peetabreadgirl/pseuds/Peetabreadgirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xerxia/pseuds/Xerxia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the prompt: Imagine your OTP arguing over which person’s cute looks their child got their cute looks from.<br/>K and P would whisper all the things they love about the other that they see in their sleeping baby. No, this is the cutest, she got it from you. No, you gave her this. But you gave her this. I love this about her - twirls fingers through sleeping baby’s hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No, You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [burkygirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burkygirl/gifts).



> A smutty little canon ficlet we co-wrote for Burkygirl's birthday. Originally posted to Tumblr's Everlarkbirthdaydrabbles site.

———–

The sounds of Peeta’s favorite lullaby drifted down the stairs as he turned out the last of the lights, and he smiled to himself. He loved listening to Katniss sing to Willow. He’d never been able to enjoy such devotion from his own mother, and sometimes he liked to lose himself for a moment in the soothing notes, imagining they were for him as much as for their daughter.

Ascending the stairs, Peeta stopped outside the nursery, resting against the doorframe, taking in the wonder of his beautiful wife leaning over Willow’s crib. She stroked the baby’s cheek in time with the last lines of the song. He pushed off the door, making his way toward her as softly as he could when the song was over.

“I hope she gets your singing voice,” he whispered when he came near, his lips skimming the shell of her ear and sending a visible shiver down her spine.

Katniss smiled, keeping her eyes on the sleeping child. “I hope she inherits your artistic abilities.”

Peeta tore his eyes away from Katniss to peer lovingly at his daughter. He never thought any other person could hold his heart in their hands so completely, besides Katniss. And then Willow came along. He knew he would love her unconditionally, had reserved a space in his heart all of his life just for her. But he’d had no idea the effect she would have. That she would turn him to complete mush, like the applesauce he made just for her.

He loved everything about her. He loved her gummy smile, her happy nature. But his favorite things about his daughter were the traits she shared with her mother.

“Well she definitely got your scowl,” Peeta joked, thinking of earlier when Willow took one look at the green pile of mashed peas on a spoon and indicated her displeasure clearly. Katniss glanced at him, wearing exactly the same expression. “That’s the one,” he teased, poking her lightly in the ribs, and the glower dissipated. He adored her scowl, loved to tease her into it on purpose at times.

Peeta reached down and gently tapped the end of his sleeping daughter’s nose, then did the same to Katniss. “She got that adorable feature from you, too.” Katniss wrinkled the feature in question before turning back to the crib.

“She has your blue eyes,” Katniss said, focused on Willow.

“And your eyelashes,” Peeta countered.

“And your chin,” she smirked, teasing the tiny cleft in the baby’s chin. The one that matched Peeta’s, and his father before him.

“Your lips,” Peeta murmured, placing a kiss on his finger, then pressing it tenderly to Willow’s mouth. Beside him, Katniss sighed. He twirled a lock of baby-fine dark hair around his finger. “And your hair.”

“My color,” Katniss corrected, reaching up to run her hands through Peeta’s blond waves, “your curls.”

He smiled, and turned to face his wife. “She’s the best of both of us,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms. “She’s perfect.”

“Perfect like her daddy,” Katniss laughed softly against his lips.

“No, perfect like her mommy,” Peeta countered, gently nipping her lip in chastisement.

“Let’s, ah, take this discussion elsewhere,” she groaned as his hands wandered, palming the swell of her ass through her thin sundress. Peeta didn’t need to be told twice, hoisting her into his arms and carrying her down the hall as easily as the sacks of flour he ordered for the bakery each week. “Mmm,” she sighed as her set her gently by the bed. “I bet she’ll be strong, like you.”

“And brave, like you,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss over her heart. “And fiercely protective.” He slid the straps of her sundress down her arms, letting the fabric float to the floor, leaving her bare save for her panties. He had to stop a moment to admire his gorgeous wife, lean and toned but with a new softness that motherhood brought. Five, ten, fifteen years together and still the sight of her body was a thrill.

Peeta felt privileged to have met the love of his life when they were only five. He had admired her forever, and had fallen in love with her twice. They survived two arenas, torture, a war, and lived every day with the scars and damage. They battled the demons within and emerged stronger. They’d built a home and a marriage and a life, together. He hadn’t thought it possible to love his wife more, until they became parents.

Seeing Katniss carry the little seed that they’d sown together, her belly round and filled with life. Then seeing her birth their daughter with a strength he could barely fathom. Seeing her become the kind of loving mother he’d never had himself. The kind he always knew she would be. Peeta was in awe of her.

And every piece of Katniss that he saw in their daughter made him love them both more.

“You are so beautiful,” he said as he circled one dusky nipple with his tongue, revelling in the shudder that tore through her body. She was always so responsive. He loved that about her too.

“I hope she’s generous, like you,” Katniss groaned, continuing their discussion. He smirked and shook his head, pressing her back until she sat on the edge of the bed, intent on showing her how generous he could be.

“No more baby talk,” Peeta said gruffly. “Not right now. Lie back.” Katniss complied. He knelt before her, nudging her legs apart, trailing gentle kisses along the sensitive inside of her thighs, enjoying her soft moans. He nuzzled her panty-covered centre, damp and fragrant with her arousal. She trembled and whimpered as her teased her, pressing kisses to the cotton, his hot breath raising goosebumps along her body, teeth nipping but never giving her what he knew she wanted.

“Peeta,” she whined, almost too loudly for having a sleeping infant down the hall and he stifled a laugh.

“I love your impatience,” he admitted, finally removing the slip of fabric preventing him from devouring her. “And I love how you taste.” Katniss pulled a pillow over her face as he tasted and tormented her, relentless, giving her no respite until she trembled and pulsed beneath his tongue and around his fingers.

When finally she was still; panting and slack, Peeta pressed one last kiss to her damp flesh, then crawled up beside her and peeked under the pillow. Her face was flushed, her hair a rat’s nest, her silver eyes wide with lust but soft with affection. She was the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen. “You’re so gorgeous when you come,” he said, pressing the words into the thin skin of her throat.

“I need you inside me, now,” Katniss demanded. He laughed.

“And I love it when you’re bossy.” But he didn’t tease her, shucking his shirt and slacks with practised ease before guiding her further up the bed. The moonlight danced over the burn scars that decorated her body, painting her in silver vines. “And damn do I love how you feel on my cock.” He thrust powerfully into her waiting heat, and they both moaned in approval.

In fifteen years of lovemaking, Peeta learned how to play her body like a sonata, each snap of his hips sweeping them closer to crescendo. Her fingers tangled in his curls, tugging, and he grunted. “I love it when you do that,” he gasped, and groaned when she pulled again, harder. “Katniss,” he hissed. “I’m gonna-”

“Do it,” she panted in his ear. He snaked a hand between them, firmly circling, desperate to take her with him. “I love how you fill me, Peeta.” At those words he couldn’t hold back anymore. Two sharp thrusts and he was coming, whispered praise falling from his lips, even as his fingers steadily circled. She followed him moments later, calling out his name in a breathless rasp.

They curled together in bed, tired and content. “Seeing you in Willow,” Katniss whispered. “It makes me fall even more in love with you.” Peeta tightened his arms around her, marvelling at their shared thought, loving her even more for it.

“What do you think the next one will be like,” he hummed, and her head shot up.

“Peeta!” she chided, but with laughter in her voice. “Maybe we can wait until we’ve figured out a little more about this one before we bring another into the mix?” And he chuckled, pulling her back down to rest against her chest. He could feel her grin. He hoped the next baby had her smile.


End file.
